


Backyard Cuddles

by King (Setaeru)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom Cain, Dom/sub, F/M, Hand Feeding, M/M, Polyamory, Sleepy Cuddles, Spanking, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setaeru/pseuds/King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets spanked.<br/>--<br/><em>Colette's voice is mellow, low and her pronunciation is clear; it lulls Dean a little. Cain plays with the short hairs at the back of his head, fingers teasing over his nape and the top of his head. Dean blinks sleepily, lifting his glass of juice and finishing the rest off, straw pushing to the side. Dean leans back and sets the glass on the small table in front of the bench, looking up at Cain.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Backyard Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloodandcream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Soft for the boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359296) by [bloodandcream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream). 



> A gift for bloodandcream which was Inspired by her story. Check her out. Sorry for the title, I suck at them. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I'm attempting to write present tense so if it's weird or full of mistakes, please kindly point them out so I can fix them. I hope everyone enjoys this! :)
> 
> Unbetaed, unread, forgive me and enjoy! <3

Dean shifts uncomfortably, moving to find a smoother way to rest across Cain's knees. The man doesn't object to his movements so Dean doesn't stop until he's comfortable. Cain rests a calloused hand across his sweat damp lower back, firm and grounding. It's nice.

Dean's hips are pressed firmly into Cain's left leg, his cock soft and laying pressed between Cain's thigh and his lower abdomen. It's painful, and it's most definitely welcome. He tilts his head at the sound of Colette's feet against the floor of the porch, they're soft footfalls, barely a noise, but the creak of the wood is there to signal her arrival. She slips onto the bench, lifting Dean's shoulder and sliding a little closer to Cain, her right thigh moving under Dean's head.

He rests his head on her thigh, feeling her push a firm and thick pillow under the rest of his body, between her own thigh and Cain's, as a support system. Colette doesn't say anything as he buries his face in her stomach, just smooths a hand through his hair, fingers soft and gentle as they occasionally brush his face.

Neither of them speak anything to him, and he doesn't offer a word in return; there's a calm, soothing silence around them, broken only by the infrequent bursts of noise from a stray bee or bird. Dean's already been informed about what would happen, and he'd already agreed to it, so there's no need to speak. There is no need to break their bubble of serenity.

Dean closes his eyes, relaxing further when Colette's blunt nails scrape against his nape, a barely there touch that he felt, that sent shivers down his spine. Cain's other hand comes to rest on his left thigh, rubbing the skin. He lays a few slaps to his thighs and ass, nothing hard, but something that he's definitely aware of, that brings blood and heat to the surface.

Colette murmurs something softly above him, probably to Cain and not him, even if it was to him, he wouldn't bother replying. Cain chuckles in response, a deep and raspy rumble that Dean can feel from their touching bodies. He shifts, and then immediately stills as the hand on his lower back twitches and nails dig lightly into his flesh, a silent order to not move.

He relaxes again, and the marks from the nails are rubbed with rough ringers; Dean turns his attention to Cain's light slaps and Colette's tender hand. He wants more than what Cain is giving him but he doesn't dare open his mouth and ask for it, that will probably get him nothing, if not less. Cain's hand stops spanking him and dips down between his legs, ghosting over his perineum and the back of his ball sack.

He holds his breath as the hand moves away, leaving him feeling almost cold, which was silly considering the warm air. Dean chokes as a sharp slap lands on his right cheek, body tensing for a brief second before melting into a relaxed puddle. Another slap hits his left ass cheek, sending sparks through his body.

Colette's other hand joins the first in his hair, then slips down his neck to his shoulders and the middle of his back, between his two shoulder blades. She rubs there gently, hands soft and kind. Dean squirms slightly, feeling ticklish, then relaxes. Cain lands another hit on his left cheek, and Dean's cock twitches with interest at the pain and pleasure erupting from the hit.

There is a steady stream of hits after that, landing on both his cheeks and a little below to the crease of his ass and thighs. Dean focuses on Cain's smacks and not Colette's hands. It stings but it's almost... reassuring? It makes him feel loose and at ease knowing it was Cain that was spanking him, taking care of him and not Colette. He trusts him more than her - but that's not to say he doesn't trust her as well, and maybe it's not a good idea to trust either of them considering they've only met fairly recently, but he does anyways.

Dean's lips part, one stuttered breath escaping his throat with each slap; it was starting to really hurt, his aching blooming with sharp pricks of pain. "Oh," he whispers, unaware he even did until Colette answers with a hum. Dean shakes his head slightly, squeezing his shut eyes and arching slightly, he tries not to squirm around as the hits gain strength, falling harder and firmer across his already aching ass.

His toes curl, body tensing with surprise as a slap lands on his left thigh. He certainly wasn't expecting that. The slaps begin alternating between his sore ass and his sensitive thighs. It doesn't take long for his thighs to start hurting too, tingles of pain setting his body on fire. His cock twitches feebly where it's stuck between Cain's firm thigh and his soft belly, throbbing hard and leaking precum onto Cain's rough jeans.

Dean whimpers softly, rocking his hips slightly against Cain's leg. He moans at the rough pleasure, hips eagerly twitching for more. Cain lifts his knee, raising Dean's ass higher into the air and delivering a few quick, intense smacks to his ass as if as a punishment for rutting against his thigh. Dean can't help but start furiously rubbing his cock over the man's jeans.

He feels incredibly pleasant already, and he has a feeling they aren't even halfway done. Cain stops spanking him, and Dean trembles slightly before slumping back down, hands shaking where they lay against the bench. He stops rutting against Cain's thigh and lays there for a second, eyes burning behind his lids with unshed tears.

"Good boy," it's spoken softly by Cain, just a whisper of a praise, but it forces a whine from Dean's dry throat. Cain rubs his lower back, hand rough in contrast to Colette's soft one, but Dean likes Cain's hand just as much as he likes her hand. Dean opens his eyes, staring at Colette's peach blouse with blurry eyes; a tear slips from his left eye, sliding over the bridge of his nose and joining a tear from his right eye, both slipping down the corner of his right eye and onto Colette's leg.

"Would you like to climax, Dean?" Colette asks, thumb brushing over his cheek. Dean swallows and shakes his head negatively, hands sliding up, one laying on Colette's closest knee and other grabbing a small handful of the side of her blouse; he doesn't pull or squeeze but he hold onto her firmly. Dean closes his eyes, breathing in a shuddering breath, he looks up as Colette says something, but doesn't register the words. It doesn't matter. It isn't directed at him.

Cain shifts, and then lifts him up, moving out from under him and laying him on the bench. Dean frowns and makes a noise, but Colette holds him in place and doesn't let him turn, or roll off the bench. The soft creak of the wooden floor tells him that Cain is walking away, and the soft slam of the screen door tells him he's inside the house.

Dean stands up with Colette's help, blinking his wet eyes. He rubs them lightly and looks around, breathing a few deep breaths. He feels unsteady, but doesn't want to sit down on the cushioned bench. Colette slides back to the corner, bringing her legs up and tucking them close to her chest. She looks at him with a soft, searching gaze, open and warm.

She looks at the pillow still sitting on the bench and tilts her head at him, as if telling him to sit on it. He shuffles his feet and thinks about it. It would probably hurt, and although he likes pain, he doesn't think it'll make him feel better. Cain walks out before he can think further, holding a glass of orange juice with a straw and a bowl and a book. He hands the book to Colette, who takes it with a mumble of gratitude, then sits down in his previous spot.

He sets the bowls down close to Colette's socked feet, taking the pillow and dropping it between his legs. Dean drops to his knees, sitting as straight and proper as he could without putting pressure on his sore ass. Cain's gaze is heavy on his face, but he doesn't return the look. The man places a hand on his head, fingers gentle. He lifts the glass and leans forward, pressing the straw against Dean's lips.

Dean opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the straw, sucking lightly and sighing at the cool, fresh orange juice that immediately soothed his throat. Cain gives him the glass to hold, which his does, drinking at least half of it before pulling it away and looking up. Cain holds out a slice of strawberry, neatly cut and juicy.

He bites it, licking Cain's finger of a drop of water from the washed slice, and barely holding in a smile when he gets a small laugh for the action. "Colette," Cain says, turning to look at his wife. "Would you please read to us?" Dean eats a piece of banana that Cain offers him, watching Colette open her book and shift around before turning to the first page.

She clears her throat before speaking, "When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them,I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only." Dean recognizes the author as Thoreau, and drops his head to rest on Cain's thigh, nibbling on a grape Cain holds between his index and thumb.

Colette's voice is mellow, low and her pronunciation is clear; it lulls Dean a little. Cain plays with the short hairs at the back of his head, fingers teasing over his nape and the top of his head. Dean blinks sleepily, lifting his glass of juice and finishing the rest off, straw pushing to the side. Dean leans back and sets the glass on the small table in front of the bench, looking up at Cain.

The man sets the bowl aside and leans back, patting his lap. Dean pushes himself to his feet and lets Cain pull him forward, letting himself sit in Cain's lap. Dean winces slightly as his ass brushes over Cain's jeans, then relaxes as the tingle of pain disappears. He leans his side into Cain's chest, dropping his head on the man's shoulder and nuzzling his neck. Cain is warm against him, providing him with body heat, and he smells like the woods around them.

"Would you like more fruit?" Cain asks, voice rumbling in Dean's ear and sending shivers down his spine. He nods, afraid his voice would crack if he spoke. He nibbles on a piece of pineapple, watching the juice drip down Cain's hand. He grabs the man's wrist and lifts his arm a little, licking the drop back up to the fruit and wrapping his lips around Cain's finger and thumb, taking the whole piece into his mouth and sucking off Cain's fingers in the process.

Dean glances at Cain when he makes a noise, and presses his lips together at the wide eyes and clenched jaw. Cain leans forward and kisses him firmly, tongue delving into his mouth and stroking over Dean's. He makes a noise, something that can be considered both a whimper and a groan, and clutches Cain's shirt tightly, tentatively returning the kiss.

Colette's voice goes higher with amusement, but she doesn't stop reading from the book. Her foot nudges against Dean's, warm against his skin, and her toes curl, short nails poking at him through her sock. Dean breaks the kiss and rests his head against Cain's left shoulder, the man's face behind his head; he gives Colette a dopey smile, dazed eyes fluttering. She doesn't notice.

Dean is pleasantly warm against Cain, Colette's feet rubbing over his own, and he can't help but want to sleep. He clings to Cain's shirt, rubbing his cheek against the smooth fabric of his Henley, and lets his fall shut, somehow relaxes further into Cain, yawning slightly. "Nap," Cain whispers, fingers rubbing the side of his neck and his hip.

"'kay," he mumbles, slipping backwards, hair brushing against Cain's neck as he moves his head to the man's other shoulder. He feels Cain's silent laugh, and smiles into his collar, rubbing his nose into the slight dip above his collarbone. Dean feels lips brush over his hair and scalp, and smiles wider.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked that. Comments and kudos are welcomed and appreciated! :)


End file.
